Thirty-odd years ago I bought a black pinstripe suit which I thought was £900. But when I went to pay that was just the jacket – the trousers and waistcoat were extra. I didn’t have the balls to put anything back. I dread to think how much it cost me in the end.

A picture: Cocky Patriot by Gilbert and George.

A tractor, 12 years ago. Bright yellow and still brilliant.

A Tesla for my former husband. He didn’t deserve it.

That the last general election didn’t take place later. We might have got rid of the Tories with a couple more weeks.

Childbirth. And the wheel of our camper van coming clean off on the M1.

Worrying that I’ve upset people.

Every time I got drunk and out of order. Especially in my teens and 20s.

I cleaned for a very posh lady in Knightsbridge who made me handwash her knickers. I’d advertised myself in The Lady as a dog walker, so I’m not sure how I ended up there.

To all those whose fleeting interaction with me has fallen short of what they’d hoped; the unwitting recipients of my occasional grumpiness.